


Still My Princess

by kittenofdoomage



Series: Raising Hell (A.K.A a Winchester) [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for @katnharper’s follower hit challenge. The theme was children and the prompt I received was tears/cry. This can be read as a standalone fic, but does tie in with the Daddy!Dean drabbles series, Raising Hell (A.K.A a Winchester).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still My Princess

Waking up to see the world through eyes black as night was a new feeling, but as he sat up as laid said eyes on Crowley, all Dean could think about was Celia. He could feel her now, sense every spot of life in the bunker, and he frowned as he realised she was alone.

‘So, are we getting out of here, or are you going to sit there all day?’ Crowley grunted, motioning to the blade in Dean’s hand. ‘Only a matter of time before the moose comes to check on your corpse.’

‘He left Celia alone,’ Dean muttered, ignoring Crowley’s comments, and the King of Hell scowled.

‘Really? You wake up nice and twisted, and your first thought is for the brat?’ Crowley choked as Dean moved faster than he ought to, his hand clamping around the demon’s throat tightly. ‘Sorry, sorry, she’s not a brat.’ Dean’s fingers loosened. ‘She’s a princess, I’m sure.’

Dean released him, black eyes switching back to green as he slammed the blade flat against Crowley’s chest. ‘Meet me outside by the car. I’ll be along in a minute.’ He didn’t let go as Crowley made to move and the other demon swallowed hard. ‘From now on, you don’t mention Celia. Her name doesn’t touch your lips, you got me?’ Crowley nodded, eyes widening as Dean headed for the door, peeking out into the hallway.

The bunker was all lit up but Sam was nowhere near him as he stepped out into the brightly lit passageway, seeing Celia’s door open a little way down. He moved slowly and silently, slipping into the bedroom and looking around at the pink decor and toys strewn all over the place. Celia was curled up in the middle of the bed, and she woke abruptly, sitting up to look over at him in confusion.

‘Daddy?’

Dean hesitated. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling - all emotions and thoughts relating to Sam, friends, everyone, had turned to anger and nothingness, but Celia...Celia was a warm spot in his chest that wasn’t fading, and he was loathe to leave her.

‘Daddy, are you okay? Unca Sam said you went out but he left me -’

‘On your own?’ Dean asked, his voice a little harsher than he’d meant. Celia was nearly four, and that was no age to be abandoned in this dangerous world. Sam had been gone for hours; his brother had left the most precious thing in this world alone.

Celia nodded, tears gathering in her eyes and Dean couldn’t help but be drawn forward to her, his body moving around the bed almost automatically to sit next to her. She crawled closer, wrapping her little arms around his middle tightly.

‘Unca Sam said he had to rescue you. Aundy Charlie is on the yellow brick road and Unca Gar was out. Unca Cas dint come when I called him like you showed me to, Daddy.’ Her nose was all blocked from her burgeoning tears, making her speech a little slurred.

‘It’s okay.’ Dean soothed, holding his daughter close, anger at Sam welling to crescendo in his chest. He knew he had to leave but he couldn’t take Celia with him, it was too dangerous. It was a strange feeling; he honestly couldn’t give a shit about anyone else, himself included, but through death and back, Celia was the most important thing here.

But was it safe to leave her with Sam? Especially if Sam came after him, if Sam was stupid enough to leave her on her own once…

‘Daddy, are you mad?’ Celia’s little voice drew him out of his thoughts.

‘No, no, I’m not mad at you, Princess.’

Celia looked up at him, a frown on her face. ‘Are you sad?’

Dean’s mouth quirked upwards as he realised he was going to have to say goodbye. And he knew that the last of his humanity lay here, in tiny not-quite-four-year-old hands. ‘A little, sweetheart.’ He pulled her arms from around his waist, sliding from the bed to kneel at the side. ‘You gotta listen to me real good now, Celia, you got me?’ She nodded, fear in those big wet green eyes of hers. ‘I gotta go away. For a long time, and I don’t know if I’m gonna see you again.’

The heartbreak on her face was almost too much, and Dean hated himself for it. ‘Why?’ She demanded, bottom lip jutting out defiantly, and he could see her fighting her tears. God, she was so strong for such a little girl. 

‘Because...well, sometimes...sometimes grown ups have to do things. I promise, you’ll understand when you’re all grown up, okay?’

‘But I want you to stay here,’ Celia whimpered, tears starting to fall from her wide eyes. ‘You can’t leave, Daddy! It’s my birthday soon and we...we were gonna have cake and presents and…’ The sobs started in earnest, and it was all Dean could do not to cry himself. It had his insides twisting as he realised what he’d done to himself.

‘I know, I know.’ His hearing picked up the sounds of movement coming closer, and he knew he didn’t have much time. ‘But baby, I need you to just remember one thing, okay? You’ll always be my princess.  _ Always _ . Whatever anyone tells you, I love you and I’m proud of you.’

Sam’s heavy footsteps thunked down the hallway and Dean leaned in, giving Celia a swift, tight hug as she cried loudly, not understanding why he was leaving her. He pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

‘Daddy!’ She screamed, just as he willed himself away and Sam kicked her bedroom door open. Fresh air hit Dean’s lungs like a freight train as he popped up outside the bunker, and he sucked in huge breaths to try and calm himself.

‘That probably wasn’t your brightest idea,’ Crowley muttered from beside him, holding out the First Blade. Dean took it, letting the pure thirst for blood throb through his veins, accompanying the anger he still felt. With one last look at the bunker, he opened the driver’s door of the Impala and slid in, motioning for Crowley to follow him.

The wheels span as he drove away, trying to ignore the pull in his belly that told him he was doing the wrong thing.

*****

The phone rang incessantly, and Sam had to maneuver his hand out from underneath Celia’s sleeping form to reach it. The child briefly stirred and whimpered, before quietening again and Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he picked up his cell. It had taken forever to get her to stop crying and go back to sleep after he’d found her screaming for her father. 

_ Dean _ … Sam’s thoughts provided some generous pain as he answered the call, Jody’s name vaguely catching his attention on the screen.

_ ‘Sam? Sam!’ _ The sheriff’s voice was urgent and Sam frowned as he replied quickly.

‘Sheriff Mills? What’s wrong?’

_ ‘You tell me! I’m in the car on my way to you now. Dean rang me.’ _

Sam sat upright, swinging his legs off of the bed as he rushed out into the corridor, trying to keep his voice down. ‘He did? Did he say where he was?’

_ ‘No, but he sounded pissed. Said he had to leave, and could I come get Celia? He said you left her alone, Sam.’ _

‘I...I didn’t have a choice...I was...it was...there was…’ Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, unsure how to answer. He knew he couldn’t excuse his actions, and he was feeling more guilt upon guilt over it every second.

_ ‘Look, I know you wouldn’t do anything unless you have to. But leaving a minor is an offence, Sam. She could have been hurt or...anything. And they would take her away.’ _ Jody didn’t sound like she was reprimanding, more like she was concerned, but Sam felt the intensity of her words anyway. He couldn’t lose Celia, definitely not now he’d lost Dean.

Except Dean was up and walking around, and calling the sheriff out of concern for his daughter for some reason.

_ ‘I’m gonna be there in a few hours. I need to know what’s going on, Sam. As your friend, and as a law enforcement officer, I can’t ignore this. I don’t even understand why Dean would leave...Celia is his whole world.’ _

‘I know.’ Sam acknowledged, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach as he looked back through the crack of the door where Celia was laying in the middle of her big bed, her eyes shut but red and swollen from crying. ‘It’s difficult to explain - especially over the phone.’

_ ‘Make sure there’s coffee. I’ll see you soon.’ _

Sam hung up, his eyes still on Celia where she slept. When he’d found her, screaming for Dean and clinging to thin air, he’d only managed to get broken sentences out of the usually extraordinarily articulate child. From what he’d picked up, both from Dean’s empty bed and the smell of sulphur lingering in the air, Dean had come and said goodbye, leaving before Sam could catch him.

And now he’d called Jody to tell her to come and get the one thing Sam had left.

He scrubbed one large hand over his face, before turning to look down the empty bunker corridor. How had things gone so wrong, so quickly?

*****

‘So, Dean is MIA.’ Jody sighed, sitting back in her chair with a steaming coffee in front of her. Sam sat opposite, still in the same gross clothes he’d been wearing when he’d carried his brother’s corpse through the front door. He’d explained everything to Jody, who’d turned up in the wee hours, and she’d forgone chewing him out about abandoning Celia.

‘I have to find him, Jody. I don’t know what’s happened to him but I know it’s got something to do with demons. His room stank of sulphur.’

Jody nodded, picking up her cup of coffee and sipping at it before raising her eyes to Sam. ‘What about Celia? You can’t drag her all around the country looking for him, Sam.’

Sam sighed, leaning forward, feeling a piece of blood drenched shirt peel off of his skin. God, he wanted a shower so bad. ‘I know that. But...I don’t have any choice. Charlie is in Oz. Cas is...I don’t know where. And Garth isn’t exactly available.’

‘What about me?’ Jody asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam frowned, looking at her in confusion. ‘Jody, you can’t…’

‘Yes I can. I’ve got experience. And it’ll be temporary.’ She smiled.

‘What about Alex?’ Sam asked. ‘You’re still dealing with her adjustment.’

‘And maybe having another pair of feet to chase will be good for her. Might get her out from under the bleachers at school.’ Jody sighed, reaching over to take Sam’s hand. ‘Look, she’s going to be awake soon. Go and take a shower and get into some clean clothes - it isn’t good for her to see so much blood.’

Sam looked down at his grungy shirt and nodded. ‘You’re right. And hey look, you didn’t even need to use your mom voice.’

‘You love it,’ Jody chuckled, tapping his hand. ‘Off with you. I’ll get the munchkin out of bed, and we will talk to her about it. She’s smart enough to understand.’

An hour later, Sam emerged back into the kitchen, freshly bathed and in clean clothes. Celia was sat at the kitchen table with an untouched bowl of Fruit Loops and Sam’s heart sank as he saw her tear streaked face and crumpled pyjamas.

‘Hey, short stuff.’ He slid into the seat next to her and Celia sniffed, looking up at him.

‘You don’t want me here no more, Unca Sam?’ She wiped at her snotty nose and Sam’s face fell, his eyes flickering to Jody for help. The sheriff was sat the other side of the bench and she shook her head.

‘We talked about this, Cici, remember?’

The little girl coughed a little, pushing her bowl of cereal away, and Sam tried not to grimace at the funky looking grey milk that the smooshed and soggy loops sat in. ‘I’m not safe here.’

Sam wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and Celia immediately moved, climbing into his lap for a cuddle. He held her close, inhaling the unique Celia scent of her strawberry bear and baby shampoo. ‘I’ve gotta go find your daddy and bring him home,’ he explained. ‘And it’s gonna be safer if you go and stay with Aunt Jody for a little while.’

‘How long is a while?’ Celia asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

‘I don’t know.’ He sagged, feeling her tears leaking through his clean shirt. ‘I’m sorry, Celia, I really am. But if I can bring your dad home, and he’s okay, we can be together again.’

‘I don’t want you to go too,’ she wailed, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, almost to the point of cutting off circulation.

‘Don’t you like Aunty Jody?’

Celia sniffed, wiping her nose on Sam’s shirt, watery green eyes focusing on him as she pulled back. ‘I do. But I like you better.’

Jody stood up, picking up the bowl of cereal, and placing it on the side. ‘That’s comforting.’ She smiled as she said it, looking over at Sam, who smiled back. ‘I can work with it. And Sam can come see you. Finding your dad is important, isn’t it, Cici?’

Celia looked over at the sheriff, her tears easing with the nickname Jody had given her over a year ago and she nodded slowly. ‘Finding daddy is imptant. Improtant.’ She frowned at her inability to say the word properly. ‘You will find him, Unca Sam? He said he had to go. It’s my birthday soon and he left.’

Sam’s heart broke in two all over again as Celia’s tears started anew. ‘I know, I know, I’m sorry, I wish I could have stopped him, Celia, I really do.’

‘And Unca Cas wouldn’t come when I yelled for him, and Daddy said...Daddy said…’ Tears were pouring down her cheeks as Sam wrapped his arms around her and held her close against his solid chest, trying to ignore his own tears as the girl worked herself up into hysterics. ‘He said he loves me and he’s prouda me, but he still went away!’ The tears became wails, as Jody watched with one hand over her mouth, trying not to cry too.

‘I’m gonna get him back, baby, I’m gonna find him.’ Sam’s voice was choked as he spoke, his eyes darting to Boodoo on the table. He reached out with one arm, picking up the cuddly cat and pressing it into Celia’s hands. ‘I promise you, I’m gonna bring him home.’ He didn’t know how good his promise would be, but he knew he’d try as hard as he could. ‘Now, I’ve got a job for you.’

Celia sniffed, the tears not quite stopping as her little fingers gripped Boodoo tightly. ‘You do?’

Jody seemed to pick up on what Sam was doing and moved a little closer. ‘We both do. And it’s very important.’

Sam nodded, throwing Jody a glance that was entirely gratitude. ‘We need you to be brave, and strong, and look after Boodoo. Okay? Can you do that?’ The child looked down at her cuddly toy, unsure of what to say in response. As she stared at it, the words seemed to sink in. ‘Celia, you okay with that?’

Slowly, her head came back up, and whilst her expression remained sad and lost, tears still trickling down her reddened cheeks, there was a little more determination in her eyes. All Winchester, if Sam recognised it correctly.

‘I can do that. Be brave and strong until you bring Daddy home.’

*****

Days had turned into weeks since Sam had packed up Celia’s most treasured belongings and enough clothes to keep her going for a while, and waved goodbye as she sat in her car seat in Jody’s car, looking utterly dejected. And he’d barely slept since.

Tracking down Dean had been harder than he thought, and telling his niece every night on the phone that he promised to bring him home was even harder. Celia’s voice held so much hope, but he could hear it dwindling, and feel his going with it, and his promise sounded emptier with every passing day.

Now, six weeks down the line and he finally had a reason for why the bunker smelt like sulphur, and why Dean had disappeared. His brother had black eyes, and before he’d gotten all the facts, Sam had assumed it was some random demon that had been stuffed into his brother’s corpse.

But it wasn’t; it was all Dean. More twisted and more violent than he had been before, and a massive body count everywhere he went, but Sam  _ knew _ it had to still be at least part of his brother. He couldn’t find any other reason for why he would stop to ensure that Celia was safe, to say goodbye to her, to friggin’ call Jody on his brother’s care of his daughter.

Maybe he’d considered taking Celia with him - the thought made Sam shudder. He’d seen the devastation Dean was capable of with the blade in his hand, and he wasn’t sure if Dean would have sheltered his young daughter from it.

With a grunt, Sam packed up his duffel with what he needed, scowling at his still injured shoulder. He’d been reckless, and done things he wasn’t proud of to get Dean back, and he wasn’t going to stop now. Not when he had a promise to keep.

He was going to bring Dean home. Finally.

*****

It wasn’t how he’d intended to go about everything, and a small part of him hoped despite it all, that Dean would be receptive to what he had planned. As Sam walked into the bunker dungeon, the cooler of blood in his good hand, Dean scoffed loudly. He was chained to the chair Crowley had spent months occupying, cuffs and collar holding him steady.

‘Really?’

Sam smirked, out of Dean’s sight. ‘For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type.’

Dean sighed. ‘Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but...did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care?’

‘What do I care?’ Sam couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice as he splashed holy water on the floor in front of his brother, before starting to chant in Latin. Dean narrowed his eyes.

‘You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!’

The little hope Sam had of Dean cooperating vanished, and he gave a sad smile. ‘Yeah, I pretty much figured that out’

‘You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.’

‘Mark of Cain, got it.’ Sam affected a bored tone as Dean glared at him.

‘That’s right.’

The younger Winchester picked up the first syringe, turning to his brother with no expression on his face. His only thought was his promise to Celia running through his head. ‘Buckle up.’

‘Sammy … You know I hate shots.’ Dean gave a tiny laugh, his eyes flashing black, and Sam’s heart twisted in his chest.

‘So does Celia.’ He whispered, tossing holy water over Dean. ‘Remember her?’ Dean yelled as his skin sizzled and Sam brought the needle down, plunging it into his arm and emptying it into his brother’s vein. Dean growled and thrashed, glaring at Sam with hatred in his eyes. Sam stood back, holding the empty syringe in his hand, feeling nothing but sadness as he watched his brother groan and strain at his bonds. ‘Look, we got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.’

Dean didn’t reply, and Sam sighed, turning to dump the used needle in a bucket on the table.

‘I just let you think on that,’ he muttered, before leaving the room. Dean watched him go, feeling the burn in his blood from the first injection, and the mention of Celia making that small warm spot in his heart grow larger.

*****

‘For all you know, you could be killing me.’

Dean’s words had an effect, but Sam didn’t let it show as he slid the next needle into his brother’s arm, ignoring his groan of pain.

‘Or you’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.’ Sam stood back, throwing the used syringe into the bucket with the first.

‘“The lore.” Hunters. Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is!’ Dean’s derisive tone didn’t make Sam flinch, and Dean scowled. ‘Oh, you got nothing?’

‘You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.’

Dean laughed. ‘Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me - the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something - guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.’

Sam shook his head. ‘Still guys like me, Dean. Gotta do what we can. Protect people.’ He took a breath. ‘Like Celia. You remember her, right? Your daughter? The one you stopped to say goodbye to?’

Dean narrowed his eyes, something new sparking in them as Sam watched. ‘Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy. You abandoned her. Not so much with the sainthood there, little brother.’ Sam couldn’t stop the flinch at his brother’s accusatory words. ‘See, from where I’m sitting...there ain’t much difference from what I turned into to what you already are.’

‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’ Sam’s voice was a little wobbly as Dean leaned forward, the chains rattling with his movement.

‘I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So let me ask you … which one of us is really a monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?’

Sam swallowed, remembering Lester, the way he’d duped him. He hadn’t meant for it to go that far, and he wasn’t sure how Dean knew about it. 

‘You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?’ Dean’s words had Sam’s complexion going pale, but he didn’t stop. ‘Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.’

Sam turned, slamming his hand down on the table. ‘I never meant -’

Dean interrupted, raising his voice. ‘Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work. And that was  _ after abandoning a three year old! _ ’

Sam’s hand came down with the next dosage, slamming the plunger down hard and Dean’s neck tensed under the onslaught, his teeth bared and gritted against the pain. When Sam finally pulled away, he was panting and gasping, glaring up at his brother with darkened eyes.

‘Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!’

*****

Dean’s head was swimming. He wasn’t sure what the blood was doing to him, but he felt sick to his stomach, and could compare the feeling to being hit by a train. Sam was outside, on the phone, and he struggled to catch snippets of the conversation.

‘Jody’s on her way.’ Silence, and Dean strained, trying to listen. ‘I know, it might not be the best...yeah, I get it. But I can’t...yeah, all right. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just...hurry.’ Dean shut his eyes quickly as Sam walked back in, approaching him. He felt his brother’s hands on his face, his voice urgent as he spoke. ‘Hey! Hey! DEAN! Come on! Come back.’

‘No.’ Dean whispered, shaking his head.

‘Come back to me. You there? Hey! Dean, you okay?’

Dean gasped, unable to stop the weak cough escaping. God, he felt like death. ‘Yeah, if you … consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils “okay.”’

‘Look, I can’t stop doing this.’

‘Sure you can. You just stop!’ Dean shook his head again, trying to clear the fuzziness. ‘There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.’

‘I’m bringing him back.’ Sam affirmed, sounding less and less sure of himself.

Dean wasn’t going to stop poking the bear now. ‘In fact, your uh… guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: Lean, mean, Dean.’

‘Right.’

He scowled, realising that Sam was tuning him out. ‘You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just....tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since…’ He laughed. ‘Forever. Or maybe...maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!’

Sam stared at him, obviously fighting against the hurt Dean’s words were inflicting. ‘I’m not just bringing back my brother. I promised Celia...I promised her that I’d get her Daddy home. She needs you.’ Dean froze, the spot in his heart that refused to give up swelling more, and he shut his eyes looking away, but Sam wasn’t done. ‘You don’t get to quit,’ he said calmly. ‘We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!’

It was too hard to swallow around the dryness in his throat, but Dean spoke anyway. ‘Well, then, we got nothin’.’

‘Would you say that to Dad?’ Sam asked, and Dean felt a little relief, knowing that was an easier argument than his daughter.

‘Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!’ Sam turned away from him, preparing the next syringe. ‘Oh. Ooh. Is this you manning up?’

‘I’m keeping a promise,’ Sam snarled, slamming the syringe into his brother’s neck, feeling a little satisfaction at the hiss he gave. ‘And yanking  _ your lame ass _ out of the fire.’ He dragged the needle away as Dean growled and thrashed. ‘You’re welcome.’

*****

It had been easy, escaping from Sam’s hold, once the consecrated blood had weakened the trap’s control over him enough. The chains had slipped and Dean had intended on running, until he’d remembered just how  _ angry _ he was with Sam. So he’d hidden, and waited, ready for the revenge he didn’t need, but wanted anyway.

Right now, the younger Winchester was searching for him with a knife, and Dean was stalking him like prey, hammer in hand as he traversed the corridors of the bunker.

Celia’s bedroom door was wide open as he passed, and he stopped, almost mesmerised by the pink walls and carpet, and he could barely stop his feet was persuading him through the threshold. His booted feet hit the soft carpet and he looked down, remembering the day she’d picked it out.

_ ‘What colour do you want your room, baby girl?’ _

_ ‘Pink!!’ _

A smile pulled at his face as he stepped further in, the hammer dropping from his grip to land on the carpet. He looked at the floor, seeing the dollhouse with the doors wide open, Mr Ken and Batman in his pink fairy dress lying discarded where Celia had left them.

_ ‘Dean Winchester? I’m sorry to call you at a late hour, but you were listed as an emergency contact for Erica Farrell? She’s been involved in an accident.’ _

God, he remembered that so clearly. Confusion, because Erica was someone he hadn’t seen in months. A good roll, some laughs and a couple of hunts shared, but nothing serious. She’d disappeared about six months before.

_ ‘Dean...you came.’ Erica was pale and drawn, covered in a thick hospital blanket, wires and intravenous tubes coming out of too many places to count. Dean’s hand automatically slid into hers as she gave him a watery, weak smile. _

_ ‘What’s going on, Erica? You up and vanish and then I get this call…’ _

_ She shook her head, and even that small gesture looked like it hurt. ‘I don’t...I don’t have much time. They can’t fix this.’ Her shaking hand pulled down the blanket, showing a large wound to her chest, one that didn’t look like it was something you could come back from. Dean opened his mouth to ask what had happened, but she beat him to it. ‘Wendigo. I shouldn’t...I shouldn’t have gone after it but there was no one else…’ _

_ ‘Erica, why did you call me?’ Dean asked, unsure what he could do. _

_ ‘Because...there’s a reason I left...and...she’s…’ _

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut as a wealth of emotion flooded him, after months of locking it down. He could still smell the hospital, the ammonia in the air; even the panic when Erica had stopped talking, stopped breathing…

_ ‘Mr Winchester, there’s nothing else we can do. Erica left very specific instructions with regards to...to the baby.’ _

And that was it. His entire life being thrown upside down in the best way possible. The first time he’d laid eyes on Celia, already named for Erica’s mom, wrapped in a tiny pink blanket in the nursery...and  _ his last name _ written across the crib.

He was a father.

Goddamn it, he was  _ still _ a father.

The door to the bedroom squeaked, and Dean sucked in a breath. ‘I can’t fight this, Sam.’

‘Daddy?’

His eyes snapped open, and he turned his head, seeing his small, frightened looking daughter, clutching Boodoo tightly and staring at him with wide green eyes. Her blonde hair was a mess, and she was still in the Doc McStuffins pyjamas that she’d obviously worn to bed the night before.

All over again, Dean felt that overwhelming rush of love he’d felt the first time he’d seen her, held her,  _ known _ she was his and he opened his arms wide, prompting Celia to run towards him, throwing her arms around him tightly. She was crying softly, and Dean couldn’t help the tears that left his own eyes as he realised he  _ had _ to come home.

No threats, no fights.

This was his responsibility, his life. Screw hunting, screw freedom; the only thing worth continuing for was in his arms right now, crying because he’d abandoned her.

Celia turned her head, her little fingers tightly clenched in his shirt as the cuddly cat escaped her hold and dropped to the floor. ‘Daddy, are you leaving again?’

He gave a choked sob, holding her even more tightly, shaking his head. Opening his eyes, he saw Sam stood in the doorway, Castiel and Jody flanking either side of him in concern, ready to spring into action if there was any danger to the child.

If Dean had anything to say, there’d never be any danger to her,  _ ever _ .

‘No, Princess. I’m never leaving you again.’

*****

Dean sat by Celia’s bed, his hand held in hers as he watched her sleep. The cure was done, and he felt wrecked, but letting her out of his sight at the moment wasn’t an option. Guilt was almost as painful as a knife in his gut, and he wiped at his face with his free hand as he heard the door squeak open.

‘Dean?’

He didn’t reply to Castiel’s question, keeping his gaze on his sleeping daughter. She’d been the one to bring him back, he knew that - the cure was just a side memo. Sam had gone out for food, with Jody, and Castiel had been left guard him. On his right arm, the Mark remained, quiet for now, but Dean knew it was a problem they would have to deal with.

‘You look terrible.’

‘You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lie every now and again,’ Dean reprimanded softly, the humour in his voice completely bypassing the angel.

‘No, it wouldn’t kill me. I just...you…’

‘Forget it. Well, you, on the other hand, you… Looking good. So… Are you back?’

Castiel sighed, standing next to the bed and looking down at the sleeping girl under the covers. ‘At least temporarily. It’s a long story. Crowley, stolen grace. There’s a female outside in the car.’ Dean glanced up, raising an eyebrow and Cas shook his head. ‘Another time.’

‘Well, thank you for coming...even if...even…’ Dean didn’t need to say it. Cas’ help hadn’t been needed in the end, when he was so subdued by his own repressed emotions, it was a literal walk to the dungeon to finish what Sam had started. ‘What did Sam say? Does he want a divorce?’

Cas grinned, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, it wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you.’

‘I tried to kill him, Cas.’

The angel stood straight, focusing his gaze on Dean, whilst Dean continued to keep his eyes on Celia. ‘Dean. You two have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away.’ He looked down at Celia again. ‘And there are more important things to worry about.’

‘I thought...I thought maybe it would be best to send her away,’ Dean muttered quietly. ‘She might be safer with Jody, or anyone. I’m just a mess. I couldn’t even....’

‘Dean, even when your soul was twisted beyond evil, your first thought was for Celia. She brought you back to who you truly are.’ Cas dropped his arms, placing one hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing gently. ‘I don’t think sending her away is the answer at all.’ Dean didn’t reply, and Cas patted his shoulder before withdrawing his hand. ‘Hey, maybe you should take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh, I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell - they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there. You should spend time with your family. Be normal for a little while.’

Dean contemplated this for a moment, still not taking his eyes off of his baby girl, before looking up at Castiel and nodding.

‘You’re right.’ He looked back to the bed. ‘You’re definitely right.’

Neither of them spoke again, and after a few minutes, Castiel left, and Dean moved his chair a little  closer to the bed, leaning into the covers as Celia stirred a little.

‘Never leaving you again,’ he promised, pushing Boodoo a little closer to her. ‘ Hey Jude, don't make it bad, take a sad song and make it better, remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better…’


End file.
